My kitchen window looks directly onto a short section of the edge of the woodland on one side of Bryn Euryn, my local ‘patch’, that has been the subject of many of my blog posts. Perhaps it’s a bit scruffy-looking, but the good variety of species of trees and shrubby undergrowth offer a habitat that seems to suit a good mix of bird species and gives me the privilege of some close-up everyday bird watching. I have my own personal woodland ‘hide’ with the benefits of central heating and tea-making facilities within arm’s length. I’ve seen a wonderful array of birds on a fairly regular basis this winter thanks in part to their endless quest for food, with the added bonuses of clearer, longer sightings and have had the chance to gain fascinating insights into their habits and behaviour first-hand.

Mixed species feeding flocks

Mixed-species flocks, or ‘feeding parties’ of small birds roam the woods and we seem to be one of the regular re-fuelling spots for at least some of them. Flock sizes and the numbers and the different species of birds travelling within them varies, but their core elements are invariably Blue tits. Usually at the forefront they are first to the feeders, with no hanging back.

Blue Tit – Parus caeruleus

Blue tits are by far the most numerous visitors to the bird feeders. Most mornings they are the first birds I see and also the last in the late afternoon when it’s almost dark. Their numbers vary at different times of the day according to which of the roaming tribes they are allied to.

Blue tit – Parus caeruleus

At first glance one Blue tit appears much like another, but with regular watching and focussing in closely to take a lot of photographs, I know that although there is a ‘blue print’ for the perfect bird, (Blue tit print?), there are a lot of individuals about that deviate from the norm. A surprising number are affected by melanism or leucism (more dark or white feathers than the norm) in varying degrees which has helped me recognise individuals. A couple have leg rings, one of which looks ‘normal’, while the other has a band of darker feathers above its beak. A selection of some of those I see regularly enough to recognise on sight now are shown below:

Blue tit with white in crown & freckled face

Blue tit with white ‘nostrils’ above beak

Blue tit with dark feathers on right side

Blue tit with dark ‘frown’ above bill

‘Normal’ Blue tit with leg-ring

Blue tit with severe feather problem

It seems that several of the distinct ones arrive together, so I imagine that may mean they are related. When I finally get around to collating my photographs I’m hoping it will show which families or flocks they belong to or travel with.

Great Tit-Parus major

There are a good number of Great tits too; occasionally appearing alone they are more often in twos or in small family groups. Sometimes there are as many as 6-8 at any one time in a party with other tits. There’s quite a bit of variation in their appearances too, mostly regarding the extent of the dark stripe down their breasts and continuing underparts. One or two are so heavily marked with black it makes them instantly recognisable, another has something odd about one of its eyes.

Great Tit – Parus major

Coal Tit-Parus ater

There are a small number of Coal tits; I’d say I might be seeing four at the most. Their visits are less predictable; sometimes one will appear on its own, most often one arrives together with a party of other tits and occasionally they have been here all together.

The smallest of our British breeding tits, Coal tits behave quite differently to other tits. Initially they’re not quite as bold in approaching feeders and then once food is taken they take it a distance away to eat it.

Coal tit-Parus ater

A couple of times I’ve been amused by one individual who rather than come forth and take his own food innocently approached blue tits with food, sat close by them, then dashed in and snatched their meal from their claws! The photographs below are of the tiny thief.

Coal tit with Blue tit

Coal tit approaching blue tit with intent to rob

Coal tit snatching food from Blue tit

Long-tailed Tit-Aegithalos caudatus

Then there are the delightful fairy-like Long-tailed tits, they arrive in a small family group most often following behind the rest of the mixed party they have allied to. Oddly though there is one that travels alone but in the company of a party of Blue & Great tits and a Coal Tit. It’s very unusual to see a Long-tailed tit alone, so I can’t begin to guess why this one is, unless it is the only surviving member of a family?

The Long-tailed tits mostly stay slightly higher up than their travelling companions, foraging amongst the tree branches while the others visit the feeders, but occasionally they give me a treat and come closer.

Goldcrest-Regulus regulus

Goldcrest-Regulus regulus

I see Goldcrests around and about fairly often, more particularly from my front window where they favour the big conifer trees. On a few occasions though I’ve spotted them travelling along with mixed flocks too. They don’t often make their way down as far as their companions that are here for the food on offer, preferring to forage for themselves in the evergreen shrubs such as holly and laurel. I’ve had some lovely views of them, but taking good photographs of these flitting flickering little birds is tricky, so I’ve resorted to one I took in the right place but back in November 2017.

Treecreeper-Certhia familiaris

Treecreepers are the final regular members of our travelling mixed flocks but from my kitchen window vantage point I have seen one only once. It wasn’t a particularly good close sighting, but I did manage to get a photo of it arriving at the same time as one of the flocks, although it stopped at one of the trees further up the slope.

The deciduous trees of the woodland have for the most part shed their leaves now and they cover the ground in a thick damp carpet, exuding the evocative earthy aroma that characterises this time of the year. Their falling has opened up the overhead canopy, highlighting the evergreen flora that has merged into the background since the Spring.

The amount of permanent greenery always takes me by surprise. Much is in the varying forms of native trees and shrubs; dark dense Yew that fills spaces from the ground upwards, Scot’s Pines with tall trunks and bristly green crowns, glossy spiky Holly, some sprinkled with shiny green berries and of course Ivy, masses of it. There are other non-native residents too, sprawling Laurel being the most evident.

Laurel at the junction of woodland paths

Fallen leaves of sycamore and oak

Ivy is a much-maligned native evergreen that was thought to strangle trees as well as spoil their appearance. In the days when this woodland would have been strictly managed it would probably have been regularly stripped away. Now left to its own devices it is without doubt the most dominant of the native evergreens here; scrambling to the tops of even the tallest of trees in its search for light and covering large areas of the understorey too. The benefits of ivy to wildlife are enormous; both its pollen and berries can be an essential source of food for many insects and birds and it provides shelter for invertebrates, birds, small mammals and bats. At this time of year it also gives cover to foraging parties of small birds such as tits and treecreepers whilst they search amongst its stems and leaves for hibernating insects and spiders.

Ivy clambers up almost every tree

There’s green at ground level too; Polypody and Hart’s Toungue ferns are both evergreen. There are bright green patches of mosses and grey-green lichen is dusted in varying amounts onto most tree trunks and branches.

I love the little ‘scenes’ I find at this time of the year, full of interesting textures, shapes and forms and coloured in earthy shades of green and brown. Here the base of an oak tree has bright green moss and grey-green lichen growing on its fissured bark and tendrils of ivy are beginning their climb up. A polypody fern has found a sheltered spot, there’s a tiny new holly plant and the beginnings of a bramble.

Nearby the fresh green leaves of Alexanders are already showing through the leaf litter.

Without the dressing of leaves the architecture of individual trees is revealed. I must have passed this tree dozens of times as I’ve walked this path but today it caught my attention as the sunlight turned its remaining dried out leaves to coppery gold.

I was unsure of the species of tree; looking upwards I saw it was tall, and also that its trunk and twisted branches appear bleached and much of its covering of bark is missing. Not helpful, but looking properly at the size and shape of the leaves I’m leaning towards Sweet Chestnut, another popularly planted non-native. There’s been no evidence of the prickly chestnuts though, so I’ll have to check to see if it produces flowers next Spring.

Ivy is creeping up the trunk of the tree and it has a backdrop of dense dark green Yew and shiny Holly.

Holly, ivy and yew

Long-tailed tit

I hear the contact calls of Tits and stand still hoping it means a feeding party are heading my way. It did indeed and now I don’t know where to look first as Long-tailed, Blue and Great Tits swoop and dart around the branches of the nearby trees. Some venture lower down giving me eye-level views. There were less birds in the party than those I saw a few weeks ago, so maybe they’ve split into smaller numbers as the availability of food has diminished. They seem to be travelling faster too, not lingering for long in one spot.

Blue tit

I wasn’t too far from where the Scots pines are gathered. Popular trees with the Tits I wondered if that was where they were headed. The trees are tall and positioned on the edge of the woodland; many have been distorted by exposure to winds and the search for light. With no low branches, their foliage is all on their crowns, so sighting anything as small as a tit is tricky, especially in sunshine. The light is beautiful up there though; I love these upward views of the tree canopy, especially on blue sky days. I’m thinking I would like to see a Coal tit though, haven’t seen one for ages.

Scots pine

A gathering of Scot’s Pines

I always stop here and look over the wire fence that marks the boundary of the private woodland and a small field. Trees on its edge although leafless are greened with ivy and gorse, which may well have once been planted as a hedge to contain livestock, has some golden blossom.

The views across the landscape to the Carneddau Mountains on the edge of Snowdonia are ever-changing with the light and the seasons and are always breathtaking.

Woodland Trail

I reach the top of the Woodland Path, and as always take note of the oak tree here at the junction with the Woodland Trail that marks the boundary of the Bryn Euryn Nature Reserve. It still has some leaves clinging on but they are fewer and browner now than a couple of weeks ago.

Oak tree on November 19th

Oak tree on December 3rd

I turn right, then a few metres on turn left onto the narrow unmarked track that leads upwards through the woodland.

I spot a large holly bush endowed with a generous crop of berries.

Walking towards it I disturb several Blackbirds from their feasting on the berries on its far side. Confident the hungry birds would come back once they thought the coast was clear, I stopped to wait a short way away, lurking behind a nearby tree.

If you’re looking out for birds, staying still in a likely spot is often more rewarding than any amount of walking and the next few moments bore this out. This part of the wood is favoured by Jays and I heard some screeching to to one another close by. At first I couldn’t locate them, but then saw one progress its way down from a tree to some low vegetation then onto the ground where it began searching for its stash of buried acorns. The green plant in the picture is newly-sprung Dog Mercury.

Brilliant to have such great views of two of these gorgeous and notoriously wary birds. I noticed one of them had what appeared to be an injury to its left side where feathers had been lost; maybe it was from the beak of another bird competing for buried treasure. It seemed OK though and was behaving perfectly normally. Then another treat. The little feeding party I’d seen earlier passed overhead and around me, Long-tailed and Blue tits in tree branches above, then flickering movements in the Holly bush alerted me to the presence of a tiny Goldcrest.

The Goldcrest is Britain’s smallest bird

These tiny jewels of birds, (Britain’s smallest), when on the hunt for insects are constantly moving, flitting deftly through dense foliage, hanging upside down effortlessly and even fluttering frantically to hover like a hummingbird, which must use up a lot of energy. They are delightful and fascinating to watch, but tricky to keep in focus and even trickier to photograph.

A Goldcrest can hover like a hummingbird

Holly is dimorphic, which means it has separate male and female plants, and only female trees bear berries. Traditional country wisdom has it that bountiful crops of berries are a sign of a hard winter to come. More scientific modern reckoning is that it is sign of a good summer past; we certainly had plenty of rain to swell berries this year. I was surprised that the berries were being taken so early in the season though, I hope it doesn’t mean there’s already a shortage of other food available.

Most of the birds I saw appeared to be juveniles and they do seem to have been taking the fully-ripe berries.

Blackbird-Turdus merula

I was also surprised to find flowers on several bushes. They usually come forth around May when they stand a better chance of getting pollinated.

The low sun shines brightly through the trees spotlighting a small spindly tree with golden leaves. Once again I don’t know what species it is but from the size, shape and beautiful colouration of its leaves think it’s fairly safe to say it’s a maple.

“The Holly and the Ivy, Now they are both full grown” …….

Ivy completely covers a tall tree, Holly in front and a still-green Male fern on the ground

Another interesting little ‘scene’ catches my attention…

I’m never sure about the placement of this commemorative bench. It is weathered, covered with lichen and appears to have been there for decades, but the plaque gives a much more recent date. A reminder how nature is quick to move in given the chance.

It’s a shame the bench doesn’t face the other way as there’s a lovely display of ferns behind it; Hart’s Tongue, Polypody and Male Ferns are there and there’s pretty ferny moss too.

Past the bench the path continues through what I think of as ‘the Dark Wood’. Here the hillside rises steeply upwards on one side and almost as steeply downwards on the other. On the north/north-west side of the Bryn not much sunlight reaches here and there’s a density of Yew trees that also make it seem darker.

A spreading Yew

There are a lot of Silver Birches here too, which you would think would lighten the place up, but at their lower level trunks have darkened and on a few the bark has become strangely thickened and fissured.

From the lower downward slope a mighty tree trunk rises, by far the biggest tree here and that I’ve always assumed was a mighty pine, a Redwood or Sequoia or such-like.

But today I noticed some large fallen leaves that could only have come from it. It would seem then that it’s another Sweet Chestnut, but here a properly magnificent specimen. What a shame to have only restricted views.

On the opposite side of the path a sheer cliff of exposed limestone towers and adds to the atmosphere. I wonder if it was once part of the defences of the ancient hill-fort that was located on the summit.

Water often leaks from fissures in the porous rock and moss thrives on its shaded damp surface.

Having a closer look at the moss I found another fern amongst it, a tiny delicate one I’ve not noticed here before; a Maidenhair Spleenwort.

(I’m working on identifying mosses!)

Maidenhair spleenwort-Asplenium trichomanes

Past here there are more darkly-ivied trees. Today a movement caught my eye – another sighting of a foraging Goldcrest!

I watched it for what seemed like ages trying to keep it in sight as it flitted from branch-to-trunk-to-branch, in and out of the ivy, now doing its hummingbird impression – and then demonstrating a behaviour I’d read about but never seen; it climbed up the thick ivy stems like a tiny treecreeper. What brilliant little birds they are. I wish I’d had better light for better photographs.

A short way further on you are back out onto the wider brighter more open Woodland Trail. Going down the wooden steps takes you to the car park, or as I opted, to loop around onto the lower part of the trail to get back to where I started.

As I stood deciding which way to go, one more treat, a Treecreeper making its way up another ivy-clad tree close to the path.

Clear blue skies and frosted grass sparkling in brilliant sunshine were too much to resist, this had to be the perfect day for my first long walk of the New Year. Less than five minutes along my path into the woods I knew this was set to be a slow walk when I stopped to photograph berries on a holly tree. I was surprised to find so many remaining uneaten and noted ripe ones fallen and peppering the ground beneath. If not for that I may well have missed the flock of beautiful redwings that burst from the trees on the steep lower slope of the Bryn, exploding from their cover and rapidly scattering like shot from a gun, targeting branches of trees close by. There were a number of them, but impossible to count as once landed they are really difficult to spot. I was thrilled to see them and to be able to watch them and delighted that I got any photographs at all, so of two, this was the best.

Redwing – Turdus iliacus

I knew there were redwings around as I’d been fortunate enough to see some from my kitchen window on the morning of New Year’s Eve and one a couple of days before that, but I had no idea whether they were just passing through or were here to stay. I’m not certain, but I think they were searching through ivy for ripe berries. Now I am hopeful they will stay for a while, at least while they are finding food.

Ivy berries are in varying stages of ripeness

Polypody fern

The majority of deciduous trees are bare now, but there is much that is green. Here we have our native holly, copious amounts of ivy, yew, a few Scots pines that are a native but that were most probably introduced, and rather a lot of laurel, once much beloved by Victorian gardeners.

At ground level there are ferns, the polypody in the photograph above, and also hart’s tongue and male ferns.

Hart’s tongue & a small male fern

And there’s lots of moss.

Then my reward for wandering slowly and numb fingers on my gloveless right hand, left free to focus and press the shutter button on the camera; suddenly I was surrounded by the joyous energy and excited sounds of a number of small birds. A feeding party, a collective of a variety of species of small woodland birds united in the eternal search for food.

It’s impossible to say who arrived first, I didn’t sense that there were leaders and followers, more that the flock was operating as a single entity arriving at a pre-determined spot with potential for all members. Of course there were blue tits, also great tits and a couple of coal tits.

Blue tit

An encounter with a feeding party of birds is a magical, uplifting and energising experience. The birds themselves exude excitement and energy, seeming to delight in the thrill of being part of a gang.

Coal tit

The enchanting long-tailed tits were there too.

Long-tailed tit

Once arrived they quickly settled to foraging amongst the trees and shrubbery, splitting back into their families or species groups. I would have been happy with the company of just the exuberant tits, but have to admit my attention was stolen from them when I noticed the treecreepers. Often included as members of a feeding party, there were two on a tree in front of me and then another two, closer to the side. What a treat to have that many of these gorgeous little birds so close and not only in range of the camera but with the added bonus of bright sunlight too.

Treecreeper

I lost track of time watching the birds, but they gradually moved away and passing people walking a dog and chatting broke the spell and I too turned to continue my walk. But there was one more little treat to come – two tiny goldcrests, that may or may not have been with the feeding party, were working their way through a small holly bush nearby. I watched them for a good while, but they eluded capture by my camera, they are much too quick especially when trying to contend with foreground vegetation. The shot below was the best one I got!

Goldcrest

Before heading on to the trail around the Bryn I had a look at the view over the boundary fence. The higher peaks of the Carneddau mountains have snow with clouds above them that look to be holding more. The warming sunshine had them shrouded in a light veil of mist, with more rising from the Conwy river in the valley below.

One of my ambitions for this year is to walk more of the North Wales section of the Wales Coast Path, which begins, or ends depending on which way you’re walking at Chester and continues around to Caernarfon. Some of the walks I do fairly regularly are part of the Coast Path, and there are other bits within reasonable striking distance that I could do fairly easily and I am keen to see more of the wildlife found along this amazing and varied coastline. On a sunny day back in the middle of March I set off in the opposite direction to that of my usual routes planning to walk the section from Colwyn Bay to Pensarn, the seaside part of Abergele. I cheated a bit as I have done the Colwyn Bay part so many times before, and drove to the pier to take some updated photos of the route along the promenade.

Colwyn Bay’s Victoria Pier, in a sad and dilapidated state

As a result of a long drawn-out dispute over its ownership, the pier is in a sad state of disrepair and dilapidation but there is much ongoing effort locally to save and restore it. It must be a bit of an embarrassment to the local council, particularly as a lot of money has been invested in providing a new sandy beach and in the building of the new water sports centre, known as Porth Eirias, just a stone’s throw away.

The water sports centre at Porth Eirias is finished but not yet occupied..it’s meant to look like a ship

From Porth Eirias the path continues as a promenade and cycle path and is my favourite stretch, particularly in the winter when stormy seas send waves crashing into and over the sea wall and flood the road, which may be closed off on exceptionally wild days. On the opposite side of the road the railway track runs parallel atop a high embankment, which provides habitat for an interesting array of wildflowers. There are great views from the trains too.

The view from Porth Eirias that shows the route of the Coast Path towards Llanddulas

At the end of the promenade is a small parking area from where the path and cycle track continue towards Llanddulas. I had intended to park here and walk, but it was full of works vehicles as yet more work was being carried out on reinforcing the sea defences. Instead I crossed over the road and turned in towards Old Colwyn and stopped by the river at Min-y-Don.

Celandines

Celandines smothered the grassy bank on the sunny side of the road and King Cups lit up the shadier side of the path along the river.

The river was running fast and at a fairly decent level, although nowhere near full.

Golden yellow King Cups

This is a favourite spot for Grey Wagtails and I had timed my visit perfectly as a pair of them flew down from upstream to land almost right in front of me. I watched them for a good while, darting after flies from stones in the water and running along the stone wall.

Grey Wagtail on the river Colwyn- the female of a pair

I drove on to Llanddulas Point and parked facing out across the flat rocky shore to the sea. The views from here are expansive to say the least, and if you were walking the Coast Path seriously I can imagine it may be rather daunting to be able to see where you are heading and will arrive at in a few hours time.On a sunny and warmish day like today it is pleasant enough and as the land is almost pancake flat, easy walking. I’m not sure if I’d fancy it on a wet day when the wind was blasting you in the face.

Leaving the car park and crossing a small bridge, the path follows the lower stretch of the River Dulas for a short distance until it reaches its end and flows towards the sea.

Path alongside the River Dulas

The coast here may appear to stark and empty, but it provides important habitat for a good range of marine plants and the eastern end of Llanddulas beach is designated as a SSI as locally rare plants such as sea kale and yellow horned poppy grow there. It was too early in the season for plants to be flowering, but there are new leaves pushing up through the shale.

New leaves of Sea Holly

New leaves of Yellow Horned Poppy

New leaves of Sea Mayweed

As I neared the last stretch of the river I heard, then spotted more Grey Wagtails, another pair I’m sure, that were hunting flies from stones near the banks, flitting low across the water from one side to the other. As you round the bend in the path where the river ends the narrow ribbon of trees that follow the line of the cliff reaches the path edge. As I got close to this point a wren flew from the tree cover across to a rock and belted out his song.

Red-brown lichen

I attempted to get a bit closer to him and he moved off, but I was soon distracted by a rock face smothered in a red-brown coloured lichen, I have no idea what it is, and another rock with some sort of quartz trapped in it.

Quartz in limestone

Sheltered on this side of the rocks there was a clump of sea mayweed that appeared to have been blooming for some time as many of the flowers were already beginning to go to seed.

Clump of flowering Sea Mayweed

A green-bottle fly on Sea Mayweed flower

Highlighted by the sun there was a pretty little clump of moss or with seed-heads on a nearby rock too.

Moss with seedheads

Moving back to the path I spotted two tiny birds flitting about amongst the twiggy tree branches. I thought at first they were wrens, but then excitedly realised they were too small and were actually goldcrests, a definite pair. I watched them for a good while as they continued to forage amongst the lichen-covered twigs, but didn’t have much luck getting a clear enough view for long enough to get a good photograph. The one below is the best I could do but it does confirm the sighting!

A rear view of one of a pair of goldcrest

I would never have imagined seeing these delightful little birds here within a metre or two of a busy walkway, but there they were and no-one else seemed to notice them at all. These trees are mostly ash that have been regularly pollarded to prevent them growing high enough to block the view from the wooden chalets that line the clifftop above them and appear to be a popular spot with a variety of other species of birds too. In the short while I was there I saw blackbirds, dunnocks, robin, the wren I already mentioned and blue tits and great tits.

A view of the shore in the direction of Abergele then on to Prestatyn and Rhyl

A few metres away the shoreline was lined with huge numbers of herring gulls. During the winter months, there are oystercatcher, curlew, redshank and turnstone feeding here and some years there are snow buntings.

The shoreline stretches on to Pensarn then on to Prestatyn and Rhyl

I was surprised to find some little yellow coltsfoot flowers pushing up through the stony ground next to the path here.

Coltsfoot

Wooden chalets line the path for a good distance along this section of the path and there were a growing number of people out walking dogs, so I turned round and walked back the way I had come.

Limestone quarry

Mist obscured much of the distant views today, but it was still possible to make out the outline of the old limestone quarry which rises up behind the shore, separated from it by the A55 Expressway. For 300 years quarrying was a major occupation in this area, second only to farming and lime kilns dominated the skyline from 1890 to 1940. There is a working quarry operational today and between Llanddulas and Colwyn Bay the path passes a jetty that serves it. There used to be another jetty, closer to Llanddulas where during stormy weather in April 2012 a cargo ship that was loading there was forced on to the rocks and had to be dismantled.This event made the national news and I recall it causing chaos on the A55 as people stopped their cars and got out to have a look or to take photographs.

Linnets on the raised stony sea bank

Final treats were the sight of a small flock of linnets that flew on to the raised stony sea bank to feed on seeds and a lovely pair of mallard by the footbridge.